Under The Lake

7. In Which Wangji Ruins Some Much Loved Garden Plants.

Something fine and interesting? Well, he himself was both fine and interesting, but he didn't really feel like wrapping himself up in a bow and sending himself to Tangshan.

So, the very next day, he snuck into the Gusu kitchens and liberated a bag of onions.

So there he was, in his room with a knife and a chopping board, while tears streamed from his eyes, turning into large pearls before they hit the floor.

Why do I do these things? He thought as he chopped a large white onion in half and put his face over it. Two more pearls dropped onto the table, and he scooped them up and put them in a small bag.

After chopping up the final onion, he washed both his hands in a small basin.

He had to go to Tangshan tomorrow, which also happened to be the same day that lectures started.

There was only one way he could refuse to attend lectures, and that was if he either had something more important to do, or he was taken by a sudden illness.

He couldn't think of anything more important to do, so the only option was the latter. He knew that he was absolutely terrible at acting of any kind, so he thought of a clever way to overcome that little insight.

He had been busy preparing for lectures non-stop these past few weeks, and he still had a full list of things to do today.

He had to supervise the organizing of the itineraries, transcribe seven batches of tomes, go over each of the guest rooms to make sure there were no errors, and organize three sets of lesson notes in advance.

So coming down with a bought of fatigue was plausible, wasn't it?

He just had to be diligent to the point of exhaustion, easy!

Well, he also had a little fail-safe to make sure nothing went wrong with his plan.

And so the day begins, Wangji thought as he stepped outside the double door of the Jingshi.

The supervising of the itineraries took an hour and a half, with eight weeks of schedules to organize and sort into the right categories. He had insisted on doing this alone to make the workload harder on himself. Everyone just thought he was being extra diligent, and in a way, he was.

The tomes were the hardest, again, he insisted on doing them alone. No one dared argue with him, and like always, the disciples just left him alone.

By the end of it, he found his right eye twitching occasionally, and his hand had seized up occasionally. But still, he wasn't anywhere close to passing out from exhaustion.

But he wasn't even halfway into the day yet; there was still plenty of time.

Going over the guest rooms put some strain on his legs as he went back and forth in each room, moving chairs and cushions. He was there for about three hours adjusting tablecloths and tea sets. Once again, he did it alone, and he didn't have to tell the disciples this time. He knew at this point they were just taking advantage of him, so they would have to do as much work. On any other day, he would have made them copy scriptures while doing handstands, but today he just begrudgingly let it go.

But still, he was nowhere near passing out.

The only thing left was preparing three sets of lesson notes for the upcoming classes.

He knew that wasn't enough to push him over the edge in such a short amount of time, as that would only take about an hour.

It looked as though there was no choice but to use his last resort.

He was not looking forward to this. At all.

He knew he had to do this in front of at least one person as well. Mn, he wasn't too keen on anyone having to witness this.

He let his feet aimlessly guide him through Cloud Recesses when ten feet in front of him was his brother talking to a pair of outer disciples.

Well, if it had to be anyone...

Slowing down ever so slightly, he did his best to inconspicuously fish through his robes and pull out a small porcelain bottle. Opening it, he tipped out three small red pills and placed them all into his mouth.

Quickly swallowing with some discomfort, he quickened his pace. His brother had finished talking to the two disciples, who walked off.

Oh, good, at least no one else would have to see this.

"Wangji, how have things been faring for you?" Xichen replied with his usually cheery aura as he placed a hand behind his back, but in a more relaxed manner than how Wangji did.

"Mn. Not bad." Wangji answered without emotion, knowing that things were about to change in about thirty seconds.

"Wangji, don't push yourself too hard; you've been looking much paler recently. And you hardly ever remember to wear an outer cloak any more." Xichen worriedly said, as his eyebrows furrowed in concern for his little brother. Wangji avoided his gaze at those words, while he felt his body temperature uncomfortably rise.

Wangji wasn't sure whether it was good that Xichen had said that, but either way, they were both about to feel rather distressed as Wangji felt his stomach churn.

"Mn," Wangji replied as he started to sway a little, while Xichen looked more concerned than ever.

"Wangji," Xichen started but never finished, as Wangji's eyes went wide, and he placed a hand over his mouth.

Not waiting for his brother to say any more, Wangji keeled over and then promptly threw his guts up over his uncle's prized begonias as the sound of retching and gagging filled the once tranquil Cloud Recesses.

"Wangji?!" Xichen yelled, breaking the 'no loud noises' rule, and rushing over to his brother's kneeling figure. While Wangji continued to spew chunks over the poor flower bed.

Not much happened after that. Well, not that Wangji would remember, as he passed out in a pile of once beautiful flowers and his resurfaced breakfast while his brother shouted for a healer.